"It is the same as writing a book," said Duc. "One must be persistent
and wily."

"Is it easy for you?"

"Neither with books nor with women. But at my age and because of the novels that I
have written, the game follows a different pattern. They know that I know their wiles and they
know mine. We waste less time."

This passage of dialogueand indeed the whole novelis an unwitting
double parody of the love game (French) and the writing game
(Hemingway). It is persistent but...